Human
by LogicalNonsense99
Summary: What is worse: The pain of keeping secrets to yourself, or the aftermath of revealing them?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Welcome to my first Criminal Minds fanfiction:)  
This story takes place after 3x04 (Children of the Dark)  
Good or bad, I _want_ to _know_ what _you guys think:)_

Disclaimer: _Criminal Minds_ and all its characters belong to CBS. I own nothing:/

\

Darkness, pain; the pungent smell of vomit.

That was the first thing the young woman perceived when she woke up. She couldn't hear anything,  
except for her own breathing.

Slowly, she tried to open her eyes to examine her surroundings, but when she thought she could see  
something, she was just greeted with a bright flash of lightning, before everything went dark again.

The woman wasn't able to see where she was; the blackness seemed to cover her whole body, like she  
was buried in it.

She knew that there was no way of getting out, leaving this place. Her limbs felt so numb, as if she had  
been lying in the snow for several hours. It hurt, almost as if small, stinging needles were piercing into  
her soft skin.

She didn't bother trying to move; the intense pain crashing over her in waves was weighing her down  
too much. Blood ran down from the numerous cuts on her naked body, forming intricate patterns on  
her skin.

The woman knew that she needed to distract herself somehow, so that she wouldn't start to think  
about the past few hours. Yeah, that was the most important thing right now.

If she was being honest with herself, she had no clue why it had been so important to her. The only  
thing she knew, if she wanted to protect herself, was that she had to force her thoughts not to go back. She couldn't start thinking, not now.

With her fingertips she gently touched the hard stone floor and tried to take a deep breath in order to  
calm herself down. Keep it together, she thought desperately.

Not a single ray of light could be seen; the gloominess never left, always keeping her company.

To orientate herself, she tried to sit up, but then abruptly froze when a sound startled her. She could  
hear someone screaming, making her naked body lying huddled on the cold stone floor tremble.

It had first sounded as if the crying had come from far away, but then she heard it again, making her  
ears ring with the closeness. The voice was nearer, definitely louder, and more painful.

Where am I? she asked herself, trying to focus over the noise.

There was no time to reflect on her thoughts. Like a blazing flame, panic rose up in her, threatened to  
burn her body, her soul. She wanted to get out of the freaking darkness.

She no longer wanted to feel the sharp pain inside of her body. She just wanted to get away, back  
home, to her family. Her little girl, her husband.

I must just be dreaming, she assured herself. That's all this is— just a dream. More like a nightmare,  
but nonetheless, not real. Maybe she was lying in her bed, with her daughter tucked in her arms.

"Do you think that anyone can hear you screaming?" The voice startled her. It was gruff, clearly male,  
and rapidly approaching.

She cracked open an eye to look up. The sound of footsteps were bouncing off the walls, creating an  
eerie echo, until a man emerged from the darkness and stopped in front of her, a gleaming knife  
clutched in his hand.

The air seemed to become inanimate; the silent was deafening.

She didn't dare look up; fear, or maybe feebleness, forced her to stay motionless. Her breathing was  
ragged. Single strands of brown hair were matted to her temples. Beads of sweat had already formed  
on her forehead, slowly sliding their way down her bruised face.

She felt so weak; so lonely.

What happened?

Only now she noticed that her hands and feet were tied. A sudden shout startled her again. The person  
had to be in pain, just like she was. Fear made her heart clench painfully.

How many people are here?

"Don't be afraid, darling. Soon it'll be over, I promise." Her blood ran cold at the man's menacing  
words.

He started to laugh, and suddenly memories came flooding back to her, making her breath catch in her  
throat. As she struggled to fill her lungs with fresh air, the man's cackling escalated.

It wasn't a dream—the memory was too vivid. She had been walking her dog, and afterwards had gone  
to pick her daughter up from school. And…and then…someone had grabbed her! Yes, that was right!

And after that…after…that…

The memories were fading just as quickly as they had come. She had been kidnapped, that much she  
knew for certain.

She suddenly realized where the screams were coming from. Not from another person, no, but from  
her own lungs as she pleaded for her life.

She had to fight, to find a way to get out of this hell. She attempted to sit up, but she had to stop when  
an unexpected flare of agony forced her to cry out and stop.

Her energies exhausted, the woman knew that she was done. Her mind wandered to her little daughter,  
Avery, and her husband. Daniel would have to take care of her; they were going to be alone.

She would never come back.

The man was going to kill her, this she knew.

She would never see her daughter grow up, never see Daniel's tender, caring eyes again – She settled  
for imagining them – Daniel smiling, holding her close, telling her that he loved her and that everything  
was going to be all right.

Avery laughing, a joyful grin on her face.

She closed her eyes, and when the man lunged forward and began to attack her, she felt no pain.

Falling, falling, falling, into an endless black hole. The woman stopped breathing, and her heart stilled.

The man had not lied; it was finally over.

\

Emily Prentiss was seated in her spacious living room, curled up on her couch with a glass of red wine.  
To an outsider it may have looked like the woman was relaxing, but in truth she was reflecting over the  
last couple of days.

The case had been hard on her. She had immediately felt a connection to the teenage girl, a deep  
instinct of wanting to protect her. There were so many twisted people walking around in the world just  
waiting for a child like Carrie, to hurt her, to take everything from her.

Emily knew that she could be there for Carrie. She felt a need to take care of her, as the young girl was  
now alone. Well, she now lived with an aunt and uncle in LA, but her parents and little brother had  
been killed, leaving her the sole miracle survivor.

The girl was alive. traumatized, but alive.

Carrie had spoken to Ervin, demanding to know why it had happened to her family, to other families.  
Why she had gone through this, and why she was left without Danny.

And Ervin tried to explain everything to her.

He and his foster brother, Gary, grew up in a foster home together, where both of them were  
frequently abused by their foster parents. One day, he and Gary noticed that the parents, whom they  
worked for, had been abusing their daughter. Gary became so angry, that he beat the girl's parents to  
death. Ervin was the one who killed the daughter. He didn't want her to suffer any longer.

They went on, but when he saw Carrie, she reminded him of his biological sister, Lucy, and he made a  
mistake which caused Carrie to survive.

This moment of explanation was as emotional for Emily as it was for Carrie. She had been so proud of  
Carrie. The girl was strong, a fighter. That much was obvious, otherwise she would have died.

When JJ, the team's communications liaison, received no word from Carrie's family in LA, Emily knew  
that it was a sign that she had to look out for the teen.

Emily had seen a lot of bad things; she kept quiet about them and moved on. But this case was  
different. It had triggered something inside of her.

No matter how long she thought about it, she just couldn't figure out what exactly made her feel so  
emotionally involved.

Was her heart simply demanding something to love, something to let her know that she was even  
capable of love?

Or was she longing for someone waiting for her when she came home?

Someone who wouldn't leave.

She had told Hotch that she had the finances to care for Carrie, and enough space for the girl in her  
apartment. Emily had never offered something like this before. Was she ready for the commitment of  
taking care of a child?

Did she even want a child?

Her mind kept trying to travel back in time, to Italy, but she had to pull herself together. That chapter  
of her life was over. She had decided to have an abortion. It was her only option; she really had no  
other choice.

Emily shook her head and sighed, placing her now empty glass onto the small table in front of her. She  
stared into space, her conversation with JJ from earlier now in the forefront of her mind.

"I think it's a good idea, though," Emily had no idea what her friend was talking about, so she had  
asked.

"You, kids," JJ paused. "I can see it."

Emily didn't know if it would be a good idea to try and have a baby again. Besides, who would have a  
baby with her? She always eventually screwed every relationship up, and if she ever decided that she  
wanted to have a baby, she wanted it to be with someone who loved her, not just someone who would  
fuck her and leave the next morning.

But, there was one person…

No, the fact that she was even thinking about him in that way was just wrong. He had to deal with his  
own personal stuff.

She couldn't just walk up to him and say, "Hey, I think I have feelings for you, let's have a baby!"

Emily laughed harshly to herself. No, it wouldn't work and it would just freak him out. Definitely not an  
option. Plus, Emily wasn't sure if he'd ever even had a steady significant other.

She had to stop thinking about him.

When she looked out the window, the sun was already setting, the sky painted a lovely array of orange,  
pink, and red. The clouds were close to covering the sun, letting it sleep. Tomorrow it would wake  
again, starting a new day.

Emily had just decided to change into her PJ's and maybe watch a movie when her doorbell rang. Really? she groaned internally as she made her way to her front door. Another case?

However, as she looked through her peephole, she was very surprised by who was there, and  
immediately opened the door.

"Um, hi," Reid greeted her with a precarious smile.

A wonderful smell filled her nose, and she glanced down to see that he was holding a plastic bag with  
takeout boxes stacked inside.

"Reid?" she asked, confused. "What are you doing here?"

She was happy to see him, but was puzzled as to why he came to her apartment? Maybe something  
was wrong?

"I—" he paused, clearing his throat. "You've been picking your fingernails again, and I know that you  
only do it when you're stressed. So I thought that maybe you want to talk about what's bugging you?"

Emily didn't want to admit it, but she had been stressed. Her thoughts were all over the place, but she  
could usually hide that from her friends. Was her facade slipping? Had anyone else from the team  
noticed?

She just couldn't let them find out.

"You know, it's just a bad habit," she smiled slightly. "I'm good."

"Oh," he said, glancing towards the floor.

She knew that he wasn't satisfied with her answer, but was grateful when he didn't push it.

"There's this super good Indian restaurant a little ways away, but it's open twenty-four hours, and they  
have amazing chicken tandoori," Reid said carefully, holding up the takeout boxes.

She raised an eyebrow, but kept quiet.

"I know that you like Chinese more, but I hate eating with chopsticks, so I thought about this  
restaurant, and it's really good," he rambled nervously.

Emily smiled. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to spend some time with him, and besides, the Food  
smelled really good. "Well then, you should come in, doctor."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update.  
 _Thanks_ to everyone who has taken the time to _read the first chapter of this_ Story:)  
 _If you have questions_ or _suggestions, please send me a PM.  
_ Reviews are appreciated:)

When Reid stepped over the threshold, Emily realized that this was the first time that he had ever been to her apartment.

While she steered him towards the kitchen and he started chattering about the restaurant and its food again, she couldn't hold back a small smile. She had to admit that him being here had really improved her mood.

Reid placed the takeout bag on her kitchen counter, and she directed him towards her stash of movies.

After a few minutes of grabbing silverware and hunting for a second wine glass, Emily joined him in the living room, where she found him hopefully holding up a copy of Casablanca.

"I've never seen it," he said shyly as she placed the food and cutlery on the end table.

Emily held her hand to her heart in mock-horror. "You're never seen Casablanca? Reid, Reid, Reid," she chided, "Thank goodness I'm here to culture you."

He laughed, and the two settled in on her plush couch, Indian food and full glasses in-hand.

The movie, however, was soon forgotten. The agents were too focused on chatting with each other to watch the romance film.

 _'This is nice'_ , Emily thought to herself.

Having someone around to talk about normal things with, and not crazy killers or the thoughts spinning around in the back of her mind, felt good.

Emily knew that Reid wanted her to feel comfortable before eventually delving into the topic of the past week. Yes, she was a profiler—and a good one at that—so she knew what game he was playing at. She just didn't know if she was ready to join in.

The atmosphere was relaxed. Emily stood and stretched, and then made her way towards the kitchen.

"I'm going to open a new bottle, all right?"

"Sure, but shouldn't we stop the movie?"

"I've watched it thousands of times, so you don't have to," she called back.

"That seems highly unlikely, but okay," he said with a cheeky grin.

Emily snorted, and Reid soon joined in, until they were both giggling ridiculously.

Although she hadn't had enough wine to be considered drunk, she had to admit, she was a bit tipsy.

"Okay, I have a sweet Moscato, is that all right?" she asked as she plopped down onto the couch next to him, bottle in hand.

"I've never tried it, but—" Emily knew exactly what was about to follow, and she couldn't suppress a smile - he was always like that.

"Moscato owes it's aromatic intensity to its high concentration of monoterpenes enzymes, some of which are actually known for their natural antibacterial behavior and can also be found in aromatic herbs and spices. So, I should try it, right?" he asked quizzically.

"You should," she said as she poured him a glass.

Reid eyed it suspiciously as she handed it to him. "I mean, the alcohol percentage of Moscato is around 5-6.5%, which isn't that much. So I should be good."

Emily nodded in agreement. "Don't worry Reid, I'm not planning to get you drunk and do nasty things, all right?"

She took a sip of her own wine before continuing. "And I'm sure that you can handle some alcohol."

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat. "So, uh, how've you been?"

Here we go, Emily thought anxiously. "I'm good. Nothing's changed since yesterday, you know?"

No, she was not ready to talk yet. She just wanted to enjoy Reid being at her place, spending time with him.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, I just thought that it'd help you."

It seemed as if he'd wanted to try the wine, but then he put it back on the table.

Emily waved her hand dismissively. "There's nothing to talk about, Reid," she looked him straight in the eye, as if she was trying to convince him that there was nothing to talk about, nothing.

"Well, you keep drinking. Many people are trying to drink to be able to forget, but a new study says that getting drunk primes certain areas of our brain to learn and remember things more clearly. So, if you don't want to talk, you should stop drinking," he said bluntly.

She gasped, "Why is it that you know everything?"

He held up his hands, "I don't know everything," he argued, "I'm just interested in many things, that's all."

"Yeah, sure," she shook her head, refilling her glass, "You know everything, Dr. Reid. At least you have a answer to every question. But you're a genius, I shouldn't expect something else."

"The fact that I'm a genius doesn't mean that I know everything," he tried to explain, "A genius is-"

Emily held up her hand to stop Reid from talking, "Don't. You should drink," she pointed to his glass.

Reid took a deep breath, "Alright," he grabbed for his glass, carefully lifting it to his lips, slowly taking a sip.

She grinned. A part of her had thought that Reid wouldn't try it, so she was surprised.

"It's good, huh?" She already had finished hers.

"Yeah, it's not bad," he replied, taking another mouthful, too much this time, which caused him to cough, and it wouldn't stop.

He coughed again and then again, until his face was red and sweating.

She was thinking about slapping him on his back, but she wasn't sure if he'd feel comfortable with her touching him, so she had just watched him.

"I'm sorry," he said, after his breathing returned to normal, "I think I need to go to the bathroom."

"It's down the hall, right door," she explained, "Yell if you need anything, okay?" She was looking concerned at him over the rim of her wineglass.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Thanks," he got up quickly, leaving the room.

Emily could hear him closing the door of the bathroom, leaving her alone.

It was silent. Not even her neighbors could be heard.

She felt dizzy. The alcohol had already done a good job at preventing her from thinking about the past, things she didn't want to think about. But was it just the alcohol? _Or Reid, who was keeping her company._

He couldn't have had a better idea than to visit her today, bringing food, that had been quite good. Emily just wanted to relax with him, with no serious talking, at all. She knew that Reid wouldn't force her to open up to him, but she felt as if she had to give him something. He only wanted the best for her.

In an instant, the images of a young Matthew, standing in the church, were flashing before her eyes. And with the image, the feelings were all coming back, haunting her.

No, she didn't want to think about it. She swallowed audibly and drank another glass. Almost like it was water. She needed to forget. It was in the past.

She no longer was the Emily who made decisions to please others. No. She no longer was the girl who had wanted to be a part of a group, a family. She had grown, she was strong. Carrie had just been a case, nothing more.

"Are you okay?" Reid's soft voice suddenly cut through her thoughts.

She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't realized him coming back.

She had to convince him that she was feeling alright - no, Emily couldn't tell him what had happened. She was too ashamed of herself.

What would he think about her when he knew? He'd hate her. Yeah, that was possible.

"Emily, talk to me."

She lifted her gaze, staring into his brown eyes, which were filled with pure concern.

And then, Emily could feel it.

All the feelings she had tried to repress over the years were coming back to the surface; All the walls she had built around herself, were collapsing.

She needed to talk.


End file.
